


oh soldier, take your time

by zamoangst



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lesbian AU, Rewrite, This is me writing my feelings, im sorry, katya is sad, marriage AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zamoangst/pseuds/zamoangst
Summary: katya just got back to the house, and it’s just as they left it. she’s trying to get through it all, and trying to process.ortrixie has died, and her wife katya is trying to work through her feelings
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	oh soldier, take your time

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this back in august and posted it, but after rereading it i wanted to edit and change some things, so here i am reposting it. it’s majorly angsty, and definitely inspired by the song supermarket flowers.
> 
> i hope you enjoy <3

they had fallen through this door so many times. dead of the night, after an evening of dancing with old friends and doing too many shots as they leant across the bar. they’d stumble through the door into the warmth of the house, grasping each other, desperate to collapse into their bed.

now, as she stumbled through the door alone, the house felt cold. cold and empty.

her mug was still sitting on the counter. A light pink lipstick stain imprinted on the side, and coffee rings at the bottom. she never much liked coffee, but she’d drink it when katya made it, because she said it tasted ‘just right’.   


her heels line the hallway, and her coats hang in the cupboard. the pink clutch bag was slung over the post at the foot of the stairs. no matter how many time katya put it back in the cupboard, she would always put it back on the post.  


she could still hear the dolly record scratching in the corner. they used to drive her mad.  


she knows she needs to get out of these clothes, get changed, she’s been wearing them for days.  
she knows if she sits down, she won’t be able to bring herself up, so instead she carries herself to the bedroom.

yet she doesn’t know if she can face it.

they hadn’t made the bed that morning, and the cover was thrown back, revealing the soft imprint of a person. 

katya stumbles over and simply collapses into the empty space next to the bed. she doesn’t want to lay in that spot, for fear of the divot disappearing, and with it taking the last imprint of her person. 

her person.

she instead picks up the pillow and breathes into it. it’s spilling the warm scent of strawberry shampoo and she buries her face in it, desperate for closeness. she runs her hands over the candles and perfume bottles on the nightstand, and slips the rings onto her fingers. the metal is smooth and cold on her knuckles.

there’s a necklace hanging from one of the drawer knobs. she gave it to her, for their one year. that feels lifetimes ago now, but she remembers that day like any other. they had decided to not go out to dinner, it was too cold. so instead they cuddled on the sofa for hours as katya had to endure clueless for the hundredth time. she didn’t mind, because she had a blonde head on her shoulder that smelt like daisies and home.

she had rummaged through her pocket long after she had fallen asleep, and then woke her up by kissing her forehead and whispering that she had got her something. trixie had cried and said she didn’t need to, but she loved it nonetheless. now the necklace was slightly worn on the back, from where it rubbed onto her clavicle.

she walks over to their closet, turning on the light as she steps in. dresses and blouses are strewn across the floor. the mess was on her part.  


up until now, she felt strong and ready to face this.  


but this is too hard.  


she slumps onto the floor, pulling the garments over her body. she clutches them to her chest and breathes in their smell. running her finger  
tips over the soft satin material. katya used to say she had too many clothes, but now she is grateful for this fraction of her. she reaches for that pink hoodie and has to stop herself from shedding a tear before first taking off her own clothes and slipping it on.  


she rarely wore clothes like this, unless it was katya’s, but this had been her exception. they’d spent countless nights cuddled on the sofa as she wrapped herself in it, and snuggled herself on top of her legs. she’d ran her fingers through her hair, lulling her to sleep and dropping a kiss on her forehead.  


the hoodie feels soft and warm against her skin, almost like a hug. almost.  


when she had first met her, she hadn’t liked hugs. she was reluctant to even slip an arm around her. she can recall countless times she would whine for her to come and cuddle. eventually trixie would give in, but obviously demanding to be the little spoon. they would lie for hours like that, tucked into each other. she’d wrap her arms around her and entangle their legs together, content with the gentle beat of each other’s heart.  


as time went on, it began to be trixie that would beg for a cuddle, resorting to puppy eyes and pleading. she would never say no, but she just looked so cute when she did that.  


if only her head was on her shoulder now, blonde curls hanging down her back and a warm body pressed into hers.  


the bathroom sink is still cluttered with all her makeup. every product you could ever imagine, scattered all over the counter.

she used to spend hours leant over the sink, painting her face. katya would complain, say that they were late, they had to go, hurry up. trixie would in turn say to just wait, she needed to put lipstick on. she would laugh and say waste of time as she kissed it off.  


she wishes she could kiss her again. pretty pink lipstick spreading across her own deep red. her thumb drawing circles behind her ear. tongues twirling together and sighing into each other’s mouth, breath warm and soft. fingers tangling in waves and grasping onto hair desperately. she wishes she could feel her lips against her own again, teasing and earnest.  


she wishes she could have her again. watch her roll her head against the pillows and drive her hips into the mattress. grasp the sheets and stifle quiet moans. she had never seen someone so beautiful.  


she wishes she could just sleep next to her again. hold her tight against her own body and fall asleep like there’s noone else in the world.  
feel the rise and fall of her chest and hold her hand whilst she dreams.  


it hurts to wear her hoodie. it hurts so bad.

it’s too loose over her chest, it doesn’t pull in at her waist and the arms are too long. she should be wearing it. after it shrunk in the wash, it was tight over her chest and it accentuated her waist. the arms were too short. she said it looked ridiculous. katya thought she looked beautiful.  


she wants to organise the makeup neatly back into its drawer, wipe up the side and clean the top of the eyeshadow palettes. but she can’t bring herself to do it. there’s a makeup wipe still on the counter. it’s all dried up, but she won’t throw it away.  


she comes out of the bathroom, goes back over to their bed and pulls out a small black box from underneath. it’s filled to the brim with hundreds of post-it notes. it started in highschool, when they first met. they’d leave each other notes on the front of their cars. it quickly became her favourite thing, rushing out of school as soon as the day ended to find a note tucked under the wipers. it continued on, and she’d find them on her dresser after her wife had left for work.  


she thumbs through all the notes, smiling at the particularly sweet ones. it feels so good to look back on happy times. she’d kept every single one.  


she can feel her handwriting that’s imprinted into the paper.  


she closes the box again and slides it back under the bed. she manages to stand up again, but quickly sits down on the window seat. standing up feels so hard when her heart feels like it’s being pulled out of her chest.

she needs a smoke.  


she can’t help it.  


she used to complain at her all the time for it. Said it made her breath smell disgusting and the kitchen walls yellow. she just laughed, because trixie would kiss her anyway. but her wife would keep going, saying she didn’t want her to get lung cancer and leave her and-

die.  


she doesn’t want to think about it. she pushes the window open, and the air is cool and sharp against her skin. when she came in the house it was cold, but now the air feels suffocating. she lights a cigarette, but every breath in and out feels unwelcome and harsh. her lungs feel like they’re filling up too much, like her throat is a gas chamber, and she can’t breathe.  


cold water. it felt like far too much, and she didn’t have the energy to take her clothes off so she just sat down in the shower. the water feels cruel against her face and it all goes into her mouth. she feels like she’s drowning, choking, and she can’t bring herself to care. she tries not to cry, but the water feels like it’s drawing her emotions out of her  


it doesn’t work.  


she instead shuts the water off, pulls her now soaken hair up into a bun and actually takes off her wet clothes. she realises that trixie’s hoodie is now wet, now no longer smells like her, so she cries again.

she’s been good at not crying, but once you start it feels impossible to stop.

once she’s dry, she wraps herself in her wife’s fluffy night robe and goes downstairs.  


strawberry and lemon fruit tea tastes like her. it’s warm and soothing and it makes her belly feel comforted too. once she poured herself a cup, she sinks into the sofa cushions.  


it’s a white sofa, littered with pink pillows in every shade you could ever imagine. when they decorated the living room, she had turned her nose up and protested. they had compromised, agreeing that katya got to decide on the bedroom decor. 

now the pink pillows smell of her and they feel like her and remind her of her and oh god as she buries herself in them she feels like she can’t come up for air and it’s all consuming, smothering her.  


it can’t always feel like this. surely.  


the pictures across the fireplace capture happy memories but all it does is spark a painful twang in her heart.

the one in the middle, the biggest one, captures the most magical moment of her whole life. she thinks it’s wonderful, that you can capture life on a picture. they’re smiling at each other, the most ethereal smile she’s ever seen. they look completely absorbed in each other. trixie looked the most beautiful she had ever looked, not that it was hard. katya had decided to wear the most ridiculous pink gucci suit.

it was her wedding day, she could do what she wanted.

she twists the ring around her finger. it’s a little looser now. after it happened, they had asked her if she wanted to keep trixie’s ring, or leave it with her. katya knew that she would want to still be wearing it, that wherever she ended up she would want to have it.  


in the drawer of the cabinet under the tv, is an erray of CD’s. some are just audio, but some display her gorgeous face wide across the tv. she wrote less and less songs as the years went by, work and the house and life getting in the way, but every song was still as beautiful as the last.  


she’s listened to each CD hundreds of times, and she could tell you in order which one was written. but there’s one she’s never seen before. there’s no writing across the bind and the CD case is clear. but as she flips the case over, in her small delicate handwriting, two words are written.  


for katya.  


her heart sinks a little, and in one fluid moment she’s taking it out of the case and sliding it into the DVD player underneath the TV. a blur of blonde hair flashes onto the screen and she smiles, bright and wide. katya wants to slide backwards against the sofa, but she’s frozen in her place, her beautiful wife emblazoned across the screen.  


“hi babe!” she has to stop herself from crying. “you’re at work right now, late shift ughhh,” the woman on the screen rolls her eyes and laughs, “so i’m taking the opportunity to record this song I wrote for you. i can’t wait for you to hear it. hopefully i can play it for you when you get back.” she tilts her head and her eyes narrow slightly, before she gently starts to strum her guitar. “i love you so, so much.” katya can’t help it now, the tears have started to roll down her cheeks before she’s even realised. 

trixie looks relaxed and happy. her hair was curled but they appear to have fallen out, she has no makeup on and she’s wearing katya’s sweatshirt. 

she sighs deeply before starting to gently sing the lyrics.  


weirdness follows me wherever i go.  
weirdness seems to know me even better than i seem to know myself,  
i'm someone else.  
looking to the clock beside my bed,  
am I really keeping time or is it only keeping me instead?  
go back to bed.  


the song feels so warm, soft, and it makes her heart feels like it’s about to burst. it feels absolutely perfect. her voice cracks a little on the higher notes, like she’s trying to say something through the song.  


woah woah woah woah  
you’ve got time to grow  


her voice is completely surrounding her, making her feel comforted and supported.  


oh soldier, take your time  
no one said the words all have to rhyme, and if they do it's fine.  
and even if they don't, no one needs to know  
woah woah soldier, you gotta let things go.  


she lifts one hand up to the screen, and brushes her thumb across her face, as if she could reach all the way through.  


“i love you so, so much trix.”

**Author's Note:**

> thankyou so much for reading! pls comment if you liked it :)


End file.
